


But By Night

by sanguisuga



Category: BBC Sherlock, Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Cohabitation, Dirty Dirty Boys, Domestic Fluff, Domestic smut, Established Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Facials, Greg Rocks Spandex and Stockings, Hand Jobs, Lingerie, M/M, Movie Night, Mycroft is Utterly Smitten, Oral Sex, Rocky Horror Picture Show - Freeform, mystrade
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 18:37:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12138621
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sanguisuga/pseuds/sanguisuga
Summary: It's movie night, and Greg has a little surprise tucked away, hoping to make Mycroft shiver with antici......pation.





	But By Night

**Author's Note:**

> And now with added filthy pictures, courtesy of my artsy-fartsy friend, Sabela! 
> 
> Go check it out - goooooo... But beware, it's definitely nsfw! (And thank heavens, too!)
> 
> [Nasty Greggy here!](http://yellowmatchbox.tumblr.com/post/165627485313/thank-you-bitemebat-for-your-beautiful-and-nasty/)

Greg paused in the doorway of Mycroft’s study, watching his brow crinkle as he read over one of the numerous stacks of paper on his desk. If it were up to his partner, he’d probably only stop working when he actually dropped dead. Greg drew himself up and took in a deep breath. Well, good thing it wasn’t up to him any longer.

He cleared his throat, smiling softly as Mycroft startled slightly, having been so deeply engrossed that he hadn’t even noticed him spying. “C’mon, love. Movie night.”

“Oh, but...” Mycroft fiddled with the rolled-up cuffs of his shirt, avoiding Greg’s eyes as he looked over his desk.

Greg took a couple of steps into the room, ‘tsk’ing softly. “Myc - you promised, remember?” He held out his hand in a gentle demand. “Once a week, a few hours alone, just you and me. It’s not too much to ask for, is it?” He put a subtle whine into his voice, doing a tiny victory dance in his head as Mycroft looked up at him, his features stricken.

“No, my love.” Mycroft stood and took the hand that was offered, bringing Greg in for a soft kiss. “You hardly ask me for anything at all, and you’re quite right. I did promise.” His heart skipped merrily as Greg smiled up at him before tugging him down the corridor in the direction of the sitting room.

He had officially taken up residence in Mycroft’s home just a couple of months prior, and they were still feeling their way around the whole cohabiting - thing. Greg had promised not to interfere with Mycroft’s work, although he had thrown in an addendum to ensure that gently reminding him to eat and looking after other annoyingly human considerations would not be viewed as ‘interference’, per se.

And in his turn, Mycroft had agreed that Friday nights would be theirs to spend as they liked, providing there were no emergencies of state or inconvenient murders that needed to be handled. All in all, they had already fallen into a comfortable familiarity with each other in their combined living space, rather cementing Mycroft’s notion that Greg simply belonged here, with him.

He let out a soft ‘oof’ as he was pushed down on the sofa, trying to suppress a grin as Greg started to dig through the DVD drawer. Mycroft thought he might be able to last a whole six months before he just up and asked the man to marry him. He tilted his head as he watched Greg's bottom sway from side to side. Why wait, at that? Neither one of them was getting any younger...

Mycroft cleared his throat softly, the romantic but foolish impulse drifting into the atmosphere as Greg turned to look at him, his eyes sparkling. “And what fancy will you be subjecting me to this evening, then?”

He frowned as Greg jerked in startled surprise, sensing a sudden nervous excitement in his partner’s demeanour. It was shaken loose with an easy grin as Greg waved a black box emblazoned with a pair of very red lips in his direction. _“Rocky Horror Picture Show!”_

Mycroft blinked. “My God. I don’t think I’ve seen that in...” He frowned again as he shook his head. “Twenty years, perhaps?”

Greg joined him on the sofa after slipping the disc into the player, his eyes skipping over Mycroft’s carefully neutral expression. “Ah, so it wasn’t always cinema vérité in your younger days, was it? Had a few raunchy adventures with your Uni mates?”

Mycroft rolled his eyes, the corners of his lips turning up slightly. “I don’t know that I’d call them ‘mates’, precisely. More like extremely persistent thorns in my side.” He set the remote down after pressing ‘play’, gracing his partner with a little wink. “I was rather grateful to them for dragging me into this particular world, though.” His eyes crinkled with amusement as ‘Damn It, Janet’ started up.

Greg slid a bit closer, running his hand up Mycroft’s thigh. “Spoke to you a bit, did it?”

Mycroft cast him a sidelong glance, tracing gentle circles on Greg’s arm. “Well yes, but it was a bit more than acknowledging that sexualities other than ‘one boy, one girl’ even existed, it was...”

Greg bit down on his excited squeal as Mycroft’s cheeks went pink. “Dr. Frank N. Furter did it for ya, didn’t he?” He did giggle heartily as Mycroft’s face went even redder, his lips twisting in embarrassment. “Oh dearie me, you wanked to Frank!”

“Gregory, honestly.” Mycroft allowed himself a sheepish smile, quite unable to maintain his pique in the face of his lover’s glee. “Perhaps I had a few - impure - thoughts in the middle of the night that would have to be addressed before they would leave me be, but it wasn't like I was consumed by lust for the man.” He hesitated. "Not wholly consumed, anyway."

Greg tilted his head back on Mycroft’s shoulder, fighting to contain both his nerves and his glee. Oh God, this was going so much better than he possibly could have hoped for. “So what was it that did it for ya, hm?”

Mycroft shrugged faintly. “Everything? I mean... The very obviously masculine body, those strong legs wrapped up in silky stockings, the ties on that sparkly bodice with just a peek of that delightfully hairy belly, the satiny knickers, that bloody voice.” His own voice petered off slightly. “Those lips, so very plush and red...”

Greg bit his bottom lip, watching Brad and Janet pick their way through a spooky forest in the middle of a downpour. As Mycroft started humming along to ‘Over at the Frankenstein Place’, he pushed up from the sofa, turning to press a kiss to his startled lover’s cheek. “Forgot snacks.”

Mycroft reached for the remote. “Shall I?”

“Nah. I can hear it just fine in the kitchen. Won’t be but two ticks.” Greg tried to shake off Mycroft’s vaguely suspicious look, grabbing his face with both hands and planting a very hard kiss on his forehead. He scooted around the sofa and across the hall, making sure that he was out of Mycroft’s line of sight before skimming his jumper off.

Greg blew out a harsh breath as he ran his hands down the spangly spandex covering his torso, hastily shucking his jeans and leaving them and his socks in an untidy pile on the kitchen floor. Ducking into the pantry, he unearthed his well-loved platform heels from behind a ridiculously large bag of rice, slipping into them and giving his knicker-clad bum a little wiggle as he checked the seams on his stockings and pulled on the elbow-length fingerless gloves.

Taking a moment to breathe, Greg fluffed at his hair and took out the small make-up kit and handheld mirror that he had stashed behind a tin of coffee the previous week. No time to do a proper job on the eyes, of course, but his hand was still steady enough to do a quick but adequately saucy job with the kohl. The lips he took a little more care with, lining them with a darker shade just outside his natural pout, making them look a bit plusher. Blood-red lipstick and some glittery gloss to top them off added the necessary sparkle, and then he was ready.

Throwing his head back, he left his sanctuary of foodstuffs and crept across the tile floor as silently as possible. Thank goodness all the practice of walking on these damn stilts from his earlier days had imparted a lasting lesson, as sprawling out flat on his face in this outfit was not the first impression he was hoping to make.

After one more deep breath to steady his nerves, he slipped through the door, leaning up against the wall in an artful slouch before starting to tap his foot in time to the beats coming from the television. Greg nearly lost all composure as Mycroft turned to look at him, his mouth dropping open in shock and bewilderment. But then those cool grey eyes widened and immediately went utterly black with desire, and Greg found himself standing a bit straighter under the force of his partner’s hungry stare.

He eagerly put on a show for his lover, twisting his hips and shimmying his shoulders, no longer mouthing along to the words in the song, but singing it out loud. He gestured Mycroft closer as he stood to face him, his expression dark and predatory.

“I’m not much of a man by the light of day, but by night I’m one _hell_ of a lover...”

Greg turned his back, putting his fists on his hips as he canted them from side to side fiercely. He looked over his shoulder as Mycroft advanced on him, letting the tip of his tongue peek out as he fluttered his eyelashes. He almost felt the growl building in Mycroft’s chest before he heard it, shivering with delight as long, elegant fingers closed tight around his waist.

“Gregory Thomas Lestrade.” Greg wiggled his bum against his lover’s groin as he hummed inquisitively in response to the clipped syllables of his full name. “Just how long have you been planning this delightful surprise, you wicked man?”

Greg tilted his head to the side as Mycroft nibbled up the length of his neck, writhing against every exploratory touch. “Oh, a fortnight or so. Would’ve been earlier, but my old outfit didn’t exactly fit anymore, so I had to do a bit of shopping.” He turned a slight pout in his lover’s direction. “Couldn’t find my pearls, either. Maybe somebody will buy me new ones.” 

Mycroft groaned, sliding his hands down to cup Greg’s arse and giving it a hard squeeze. “You performed in the show when you were younger.” Mycroft pressed closer, running his hands down, slipping his fingers under the suspenders holding Greg’s stockings up, giving them a strong pluck just to hear the elastic snap against his skin. “Do you... Oh Lord - do you have any photos?”

Greg panted quietly as he braced his arms against the wall, grinding his arse into Mycroft’s burgeoning erection. “I just m-might.” He gasped as Mycroft’s hand slipped between his legs, cupping his bollocks and running his middle finger along the smooth crotch of the knickers. “What will you give me if I show them to you?”

Mycroft growled low, stroking his lover’s cock through the cool satin. “I may _consider_ giving you a mind-blowing orgasm, and if you’re very good for me, then I _might_ consent to feed you my cock as a treat afterwards.”

“You filthy fucker, ohhh...”

_“Me?”_ Mycroft’s voice was quietly incredulous as his nimble fingers continued to pluck and caress, to squeeze and stroke. “Says the man who has been wearing satin knickers all bloody night long.”

Greg giggled even as he shuddered, rocking his hips between his lover’s gorgeous fingers and his equally gorgeous cock, pressed firmly into the cleft of his arse. “And you didn’t even deduce it - not one little bit.”

Mycroft growled, leaning up a bit to take Greg’s earlobe in his teeth and giving it a vicious tug. “You impertinent creature.” He slipped his hand inside Greg’s knickers, taking hold and tugging at him hard and fast, grinning fiercely as his lover cursed and squirmed in his hold, gasping out a harried curse. “How am I supposed to go on as before, now that I have seen this?” Mycroft chided him softly. “As if I were not already completely enthralled, now I have to contend with _this_.”

“Ngh, _Christ_ \- a-and you’ll never know for sure, always w-wondering what surprises I have in store for you, al-always see me like this in your head...”

Mycroft sighed breathily, reaching around with his other hand to cradle Greg’s bollocks, pressing in closer and leaving him no room to move, delighting in his frustrated whines. “Oh yes - _just_ like this.” He closed his fingers over the soft spheres, tugging at them viciously as he twisted his wrist around the head of Greg’s cock. Greg convulsed in his arms, his body jerking and twitching as Mycroft’s fingers were despoiled quite thoroughly. “Absolutely wrecked by my hand. _That_ is how I will always see you.”

Greg took a moment just to breathe, panting softly as his head cleared and vision returned to normal. His knees trembled faintly as his lover’s fingers continued to work him over, sliding through the mess he had made, squeezing gently at his softening shaft. Christ, that _had_ been mind-blowing - good thing he’d had the wall holding him up.

Shaking off the blissful haziness that was coursing through his limbs, Greg turned in Mycroft’s embrace, reaching down to take hold of his wrist, bringing his hand up to his mouth and smiling cheekily as he started to lick his fingers clean. Mycroft’s eyes absolutely burned into him as he sucked his index finger in deep, closing his teeth around the knuckle and swirling his tongue around it. Greg felt an absurd surge of power in his chest as Mycroft sagged a bit, seeming to swoon slightly. Oh yes - time to return the favour, then.

Mycroft let out a startled ‘whoop’ as he was swiftly turned and shoved against the wall, staring dumbly as Greg planted a hand on his chest and a stocking-clad knee between his thighs. He groaned quietly as his lover quirked a knowing eyebrow, his tongue flickering over shiny red lips. Quite unable to stop himself, Mycroft reached down to caress the firm but silky thigh with both hands, grinding against it almost subconsciously.

“Dirty boy.” Greg purred as he leant closer, the fingers of one hand deftly slipping Mycroft’s shirt buttons free. “Going to make a mess in those fine trousers of yours if you’re not careful.”

Mycroft shuddered as he watched those thick but delightfully nimble fingers go for his zip. “No I won’t.” He tilted Greg’s chin up, pulling down on his bottom lip with his thumb. The additional height that Greg’s shoes were lending him made Mycroft’s equilibrium a bit wonky, but he was still able to muster enough cold arrogance to add authority to his voice. “Because _you_ are going to take care of that nuisance for me.”

His heart beat wildly as Greg grinned, so wicked and knowing and yet utterly carefree, swallowing hard as he eagerly crouched down in front of him, tottering slightly on those damn heels. Mycroft awkwardly shrugged out of his shirt as Greg made short work of his trousers, yanking them and his pants down to mid-thigh. The vest came off too, and Greg made a soft sound of delight as he reached up, running his hands through Mycroft’s chest hair and giving his nipples a tender tweak.

_“Nghk.”_ Mycroft tried not to smile as Greg laughed at him with open affection, but it was quite impossible, what with those kohl-lined eyes twinkling up at him so cheekily and all. He licked his lips as he watched those hands, those fine strong arms wrapped up in sparkly spandex, traversing the contours of his body, finally meeting at his groin.   

Another strangled noise was pushed from his throat as Greg wrapped his fingers around the base of his erection, as he put his red, red lips to the tip and bestowed a soft kiss to the frenulum. Mycroft fought against the involuntary torquing of his neck, absolutely desperate to watch as his cock was taken reverently into his lover’s mouth.

Greg put on his best sham of innocence, his eyes wide and adoring as he slid down as far as he could go, stifling a delighted chortle as Mycroft’s cock throbbed heartily against his tongue. Aware that it wouldn’t take long and seeing the promise of more debauchery to come in his lover’s eyes, Greg didn’t tease any further than necessary, sucking gently as he pulled off only to swallow him down again and again.

Mycroft stood as if mesmerised, clutching at Greg’s shoulders as he worked at him, his belly flooding with heat as he watched those lips slide up and down. He dared a trembling thrust, shuddering as there was a muffled moan of encouragement, feeling Greg’s saliva trickling down his bollocks. Oh no, not long, especially as those eyes fixed on his face, one kohl-stained tear quavering at the edge before sliding gracefully down the curve of Greg’s cheek.

Mycroft hissed as his orgasm began to build, reaching its crescendo as his lover sucked at him fiercely, taking him in to the root. He took hold of the hair at the back of Gregory’s head, wrenching him off his cock, tilting his face up and growling in some sort of possessive fugue as the first pulse of come splattered over those red, red lips, now badly smudged but certainly no less alluring.

Greg divined his intention immediately, reaching for Mycroft’s cock and stroking him through his release, sticking out his tongue to capture some and letting the rest paint his face, streaking lips and chin and throat. He squeezed gently as Mycroft let out an almost pained whine, his fingers smoothing over the patch of scalp that he had abused. Greg blinked another tear or two from his eyes as he leant in, taking Mycroft’s spent cock back into his mouth, cradling the softening flesh against his tongue until it slipped free of its own volition.

Mycroft stared down at him in wonder, cradling Greg’s jaw as his thumb rubbed circles on his cheek, working his come into his skin. His eyes glinting with wicked satisfaction, Greg turned his head and took Mycroft’s thumb between his teeth, giving it a gentle chomp as he rose to his feet somewhat creakily. Mycroft pulled him in for a deep and energetic kiss, not giving one single damn about the mess that he was smearing onto his own face.

Greg pulled back with a quiet laugh, watching as Mycroft’s eyes fluttered against his breath. “We’ll have to start the movie all over again.”

“Indeed.” Mycroft smirked as he tweaked Gregory’s bum. “And don’t think I’m done with you just yet, you naughty thing.”

Greg shivered and slipped out of Mycroft’s hold. “I’ll just freshen up a bit, yeah?”

Mycroft stood in the doorway, absentmindedly tucking himself back into his pants and trousers as he watched Gregory saunter away, his satin-clad bum swinging from side to side, supremely confident and absurdly sexy in his platform heels. He looked at the traces of lipstick and come on his fingers, grinning and shaking his head as his cock twitched.

Six months, was it? At this rate, he’d be begging Gregory to marry him within the bloody week...

**Author's Note:**

> For now, this is where the story ends, but I may have a round 2 in the works... Please do let me know what you thought and whether you'd like to see a bit more filthiness! ;-p 
> 
> Not beta'd or brit-picked. Characters not mine, but the situation definitely is!
> 
> If you'd like to get notifications from tumblr, I'm at 'bitemebat.tumblr.com'. Come follow me, and you'll get pretty boys and soft kitties on your dash!


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